T Southwell - Children of Another God

"Gratitude."

The dark-eyed warrior studied his porridge with unwonted ferocity as Talsy launched into the tale of his bungled attempt to rescue her from a bad dream. The Mujar's eyes twinkled, although he cast her a look of gentle reproof.

After Chanter called a halt to Sheera's seemingly endless supply of rather tasteless porridge, he healed their wounds and announced that he was going into the forest to speak to the Kuran. The ship, he told them, would arrive within the next few days, borne on ocean currents that he commanded. That gave them time to cure and bend the wood in readiness. According to Sheera, there was a shipwright amongst the chosen who was eager to contribute his services. To Talsy's surprise, Chanter asked Kieran to accompany them.

Talsy trotted to catch up as he headed for the forest, leaving Kieran to follow. "Why do you want him to come?" she demanded, jerking her thumb at the black-clad warrior.

The Mujar smiled. "He's a friend of Kuran. He'll be welcomed."

"But we don't need him."

"Why don't you like him?"

"He's an oaf," she snapped.

"No he's not."

Chanter's brusque assertion silenced her, and she followed him through the forest. He seemed certain of his destination, while Talsy was soon lost in the endless monotony of tree trunks. Dry leaves rustled under her feet, at times making the footing treacherous, for they were surprisingly slippery. The forest's haunting melody surrounded them with soft birdsong and sighing leaves. The Mujar led them to a stand of five tall, straight, silver-barked trees growing together, like a family.

Chanter stopped and raised his head, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the forest's heady aromas. The birdsong that drifted around them in an overlay of living sound was interspersed with a woodpecker's occasional hammering, a distant vixen's bark and the faint chattering of squirrels. Without their footsteps' rustling to hide it, the forest's sounds seemed loud. He sensed the Kuran's presence all around him, high amongst the leaves and nearby in the silvery trunks. It stretched away through the vast woodland, an intrinsic part of every leaf, bud and flower.

Approaching the nearest tree, he summoned Dolana, and, in the moment of cold stillness, called forth the forest's soul. Kieran gripped his sword hilt as Dolana's icy clamp released him, and the forest groaned and sighed. Talsy shot the warrior a scathing look, and Chanter shook his head at her. A few minutes passed while the Kuran gathered, pulling in her vastness to concentrate her power around them. Kieran shifted, glancing around as the birds and woodland creatures fell silent. The gathering of a powerful Kuran filled the air with a preternatural charge, like the tension before a thunderstorm. It made Chanter’s neck hairs prickle and his scalp crawl. Talsy shivered in Dolana's growing cold, which, unlike Chanter's manifestations, built gradually, with far less power.

The trees about ten feet away parted their branches high above to let in a shaft of sunlight. Chanter turned to face the Kuran as she became visible. Within the sunbeam, tiny sparkles floated like dust motes, swaying in a gentle dance. They gathered and multiplied, swirling to form an indistinct shape. Green and gold predominated, touched with hints of pink and blue and the barest tint of silver. The glimmers coalesced into pearly eyes that glowed with joy and a shining figure suffused with soft light. It sighed with beauty and flooded the forest with an awesome, placid power.

Chanter bowed to the Kuran's swaying presence, making a complicated gesture. "Greetings, wood sister."

A soft, sighing voice spoke almost beyond the reach of hearing. "Greetings, wood brother, blessed of Life. You have reason?"

"I beg a favour, sister."

"A small one, be sure, the omens of death come."

"Indeed," Chanter replied.

Talsy tore her eyes from the Kuran to glance at Kieran, who frowned, as if puzzled. She turned back to the forest's soul as the Mujar spoke again.

"I need these five trees, dead."

"Ah." A great sigh went through the wood, making Talsy shiver again at the ethereal beauty of the soul and her silvery voice. "A small favour, yes, an unhappy one."

"Regret, wood sister."

The iridescent form twisted, its pearly eyes turning to gaze through the forest. "Death is near, the path is clear."

Chanter waited until the Kuran faced him again. "We three ask."

"You three, friends all, a dear trio to Kuran."

"Yes."

"Beware, wood brother."

The trees moved together again, released from the power that held them, cut off the shaft of sunlight and snuffed out the sparkles. A form remained like a faint mist, dull in the dimness, then it thinned and vanished. A sigh went through the trees, and Chanter turned to the two Truemen.

Talsy was confused. "She didn't grant it?"

"She can't refuse a Mujar, I'm afraid. Asking was merely a courtesy." Chanter sighed.

"So what do we do now, fetch axes and chop them down?"

He winced. "No, we wait. It won't be long."

Chanter settled on a log and Kieran leant against a tree. Talsy fidgeted. The forest remained silent, waiting. After about half an hour, Chanter straightened.

"It begins."

Talsy turned to face the five trees and froze in wonder. High above, the leaves of the chosen trees changed. The green faded from them, turning them first yellow, then red. They fell in a drifting rain, spinning and swaying to the ground. The trees groaned in almost man-like misery as they died, and a deeper hush fell over the woods, like a funeral dirge of silence. Talsy's eyes burnt, and hot tears spilt down her cheeks. Never had she thought to mourn trees, but it was part of the forest that died. Though it was an entity that lacked limbs and organs, flesh and blood, it was nonetheless alive and vibrant, and it suffered death no less than any Trueman. She turned to Chanter, whose visage was grim with grief.

"Must we watch this?" She gulped.

"Yes."

The fall of leaves ended when the branches were bare, and the wood died. As the sap withdrew, the branches warped and twisted like hands writhing in agony, the wood screaming softly in pain. Twigs snapped off and fell, branches split with harsh cracks and deep groans. The bark peeled off and fell in long strips down the golden trunks, the fresh yellow wood faded to grey. The five trees that less than an hour ago had been proud and green now stood as bare grey trunks.

Silence fell, then another great sigh wafted through the wood, and birds sang again in the distance. Chanter walked over the red carpet of newly fallen leaves to the five dead trees and laid his hands on one, invoking Dolana. With it, he lopped off the branches flush with the trunk, then sheared off the dead tree close to the ground. It tore a cloud of green leaves from its neighbours as it crashed down. Chanter split it into a dozen perfect planks, and repeated the procedure with the other four trees.

He returned to Talsy, his eyes downcast. "That should be enough."

She followed as he strode away. "We'll send men to collect the wood."

The Mujar nodded. "Kieran will guide them."

Talsy trotted to keep up with his long strides. "What did the Kuran mean, 'death is near, the path is clear'?"

"The Black Riders are coming."

"But we're the chosen!"

"There are unchosen hiding amongst us, and don't look at him," he admonished as she glanced at Kieran. "He's chosen. The men who attacked the girl are still nearby, and maybe others. We don't have much time."

"Will the Black Riders kill the chosen too?"

"They'll kill all in their path."

Suppressing a shiver, she followed him back to the camp, where he despatched Kieran to lead a group of men into the woods to fetch the planks. That task took the rest of the day, while Chanter paced the beach, waiting for his ship to come in. He stayed there all night, and his urgency worried Talsy.